In Which The Seasons Change Very Swiftly

Just yesterday I wrote of the approach
Of Autumn, felt and seen by many signs.
I missed it once again; winter doth broach
Our talk already as the month declines.
Today's the equinox if one believes
The calendar, but, in Wyoming, learn:
Already we have snow. I'm sure the leaves
Would have been pretty if allowed to turn,
Likewise, the crabapples that I've watched grow
In my backyard might have made lovely jam
Had they a chance to ripen. But I know
Such hopes are most quixotic, as I am
Each April when I dream of such. Alas!
How swiftly those Fall minutes seem to pass!